


moonshine | (leave me closer than ever)

by ethrealeis



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Cold Weather, Fluff, Halloween Costumes, Idolization, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, and that's all on hyperfixation baby, tooth-rooting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethrealeis/pseuds/ethrealeis
Summary: "it's so pretty, isn't it?"schlatt scoffed and gave his lover a look."and you aren't going to tell me i'm prettier?"he felt familiar arms wrap around him."you're beautiful, not pretty, darling."
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 7
Kudos: 101





	moonshine | (leave me closer than ever)

**Author's Note:**

> I'M A SLEEP DEPRIVED LUNATIC, HERE, TAKE SCHLATTBUR AT 3 AM

when he first told him that he loved him, it wasn't as perfect as he had imagined it to be. 

schlatt assumed that wilbur had already taken up all the beauty of the world, being gently sent from the heavens as a person; god, almost, with all the most idyllic and wondeful wonders envisaged in the history of the world; no, it was more like the whole fucking universe.  
  
there was nothing better than him.  
he was everything.  
  
so when he had confessed on a murky street corner at five in the morning, it had almost felt like sacrilege, desecration; a blasphemous act, even.  
  
to taint a perfect man's image with a confession in an unpleasant place and time.  
  
to a commoner like himself, too. sometimes staring into wilbur, his eyes of honeydewed browns and hinted blacks made him wonder if he was good enough. or if he had ever been good enough.  
  
his imagination had envisioned the moment of confession over and over, till sometimes it even seemed like fact; leaving schlatt mentally drained again and again whence his dreams were broken and thrown to the floor with a resounding clash that no one but himself could hear.  
  
he had begun to think he would never be able to confess whatever feelings he felt around wilbur that he could barely put into words.  
  
when it came, he wasn't ready.  
  
who doesn't imagine a first kiss on a rooftop, roses exchanged and chaste kisses given; music mounts and your throat chokes up, falling into devotion to your very own god?  
  
speaking of gods; when he was beside his own, wilbur, it was hard to not compare.  
  
some days he was like apollo, god of music and dance, truth and prophecy, healing, light, poetry; gold and winged, an angel, his muse.  
  
yet on days he was eros, god of love, passionate and striking schlatt's heart with desire and confusion, and irrepressible feelings and emotions which schlatt had never known from anyone else before.  
  
he was complex. too hard to truly figure out to most people.  
  
even schlatt, his lover, could barely decifer the most simple of emotions he set out for him to read. he had to rely on wilbur to tell him most of the time.

it had been perfect for the older, though.   
  
a slow kiss under the moon.  
a warmth seeping through his body.  
the moon shining in his eyes. 

ethereal beauty. 

"that's all i ever wanted from you," wilbur would tell him.

"i never needed some glamoured renaissance," he would say, waving his hands in the air whenever schlatt nervously brought the confession up.

"it was with _you_ , darling, that's all i wanted."

they laughed at it afterwards, wilbur usually ending the memory with the same wryly words each time. 

"i love you." 

"really?" schlatt would quip in, mocking wilbur's breathy tone. 

"really," wilbur would whisper, head resting on schlatt's shoulder.

"and if you continue without changing that voice, darling, something's going to happen. not saying you won't like it, but you'll definitely change your tone, sweetheart." 

he leant his head down, face in the younger's neck, smiling into the soft skin at his boyfriend's evident powerlessness he so often tried to hide. 

"alright, alright, loverboy. you ain't getting shit out of me." 

both of the men knew this was a lie. 

that night had been sleepless for all the right reasons. 

schlatt lay in a white bed, drunk on the heat of wilbur's lips, his long arms either side of schlatt's bare chest, with the feeling of soft, twisted hair covering half his face, illuminated only by a bright glowing moon from an opaque window, the hair of his lover dripping to his face, gentle and serene against the glowing bronze of his own hair. 

"wilbur," schlatt had gasped, wrapping his arms around his waist, tying him into a cocoon of love and ador, simple and blessed. 

"schlatt." 

wilbur mumbled back, burying his head into the shorter's neck again, a sensation schlatt couldn't get enough of. 

the light blessing his face had been the same moon he had fallen in love under, confessed under; 

the same one he was remembering under, no matter how painful the memories got. 

* * *

schlatt had never been someone interested in halloween. the dressing-up was a waste of time, the parties felt dull and boring, and trick-or-treating had never been fun. 

he thought he'd keep that mindset, until he saw a tall brown-haired beauty step through a doorway at nine o'clock at night, dressed in a loosely draped toga of white and rimmed-gold, vines snaking up his body and arms, an olive green laurel wreath hanging slightly from a head mopped with sweet brown locks, covering half his face, poised in a sharp pose. 

his eyes shined. 

"is this a good dionysus, darling?" 

he asked quietly, smiling at his boyfriend's eyes trailing down his figure. 

"gorgeous, baby. but then maybe i'm biased, since you always look this fuckin' good." 

"you flatter me." wilbur walked towards the man, slipping beside him on a plain beige couch, fingers brushing against schlatt's thigh for a spilt second before almost shyly picking up a glass of wine and sipping it gracefully, letting it stain his lips a dark cherry shade.

"is there anything wrong, babyboy?" 

wilbur's face flushed slightly at the nickname, shaking his head. 

"i'm just a little nervous. without you coming to this place, i mean." 

schlatt grinned, watching the dim nightlights paint his face. 

"baby, if i'd known you'd be goin' out i woulda' done something." 

"yeah, but-" 

the younger man played with the golden earrings dangling from the brunette's ears, then moving his hand to grace wilbur's face and glowing locks. 

his eyes trailed down slightly to wilbur's darkened red lips. he moved his own face to kiss him, feeling wilbur lift a hand to tug on his hair, letting his other hand holding the wine glass gracefully drop slightly. 

he looked exactly like a god, lying in a lacklustre position, schlatt balanced on him, leaning into his touch. 

schlatt parted from his lover, smirking at wilbur's stationary expression. 

he kissed the taller again, this time admiring the rich taste of the wine, slowly licking it off.

"you tease." 

"couldn't help it, loverboy." 

wilbur pulled him slightly closer, wrapping slender arms around his waist, giving schlatt the rare satisfaction of letting out some quiet noises of content. 

they held each other like that for a while, eyes heavy-lidded and red.

"alright, get off me, i need to-"

schlatt intercepted his words with small kisses, dotting his collarbone with small purple marks that were as purple as the grapes. 

"bye then, honey. stay safe."

"i will." 

he left schlatt lying on the sofa. starstruck was not the right word. nothing could describe it. 

the dark heavens opened up, basking him in a pale blue hue. moonsick. 

it had always been the moon.

it always would be.

and that was how wilbur had found him, three hours later, slightly tipsy from wine and tiredness. 

he had saw slumped figure on the sofa, wine bottles and candles littering the tables nearby, silence filling the room. 

schlatt woke the next morning to find a figure arched around him, face red and eyes shut, arms wrapped as tight as they could be around him, coated in a soft blanket and even softer smile.

* * *

"schlatt! wake up!"

an excited voice jogged the younger from his dreams.

it was hard to put into words how much he adored something as simple as a man's voice, but all he knew is that wilbur's was the only one that made him feel that way. deep and sweet, accented and graceful, enough to make schlatt swoon if he did as much as whisper.

"whassit, wil."

"it's snowing!"

he felt himself get pulled up by long, strong arms, still half asleep, eyes blinded by the brightness of the snow. the taller, awake boy had a grin stretching far across his face, eyes shining.

"i'm gonna go out, o.k?"

without waiting to hear schlatt's stumbled 'what's' and 'wait's', wilbur rushed off the bed and out the room, leaving the younger a confused, tired puddle on the linen. he squinted his eyes and stared out of the blinding window. 

"fuck."

wilbur, clad in nothing but a jumper and a pair of trousers, spinning and dancing and rolling in the snow, in the middle of _winter_.

schlatt had never got dressed so fast in his life.

he ran out of the door with as many coats and scarves he knew they owned, spotting wilbur lying back on a bench, a smile still on his face.

the shorter groaned and draped the scarves and commodities around the taller, bringing him closer to him as he did so, enveloping him in an embrace. 

"careful, darling. it's almost like you _want_ me to start paradoxically undressing." the brunette said, letting out a chuckle and rubbing schlatt's back gently. schlatt simply leaned into the touch, face shoved into wilbur's covered collarbone. 

"you fuckin' idiot, with your big words, making me run out this early," he mumbled, hearing the taller laugh at his words. 

"alright, alright, darling. i just like snow, y'know? in britian there's hardly anything that isn't cold mush."

he shook himself off the younger, deciding to explore the new, cold sunny day, with its pearly white snow and smells of evergreen trees and cinnamon.

schlatt watched him as he danced, eyes bright and cheery. he noticed him motioning for him to follow, so he stood up, feeling small next to the 6'5 giant that was his boyfriend. "c'mon, darling, walk with me!"

as soon as he took his hand, he felt like an equal again. no longer small and insignificant. the look he spotted wilbur give him further proved that theory. 

and so they did, hand in hand, walking through the crunching snow.

* * *

"schlatt, is that you?"

a blank voice broke him out of his memories.

it was no longer the voice he had treated with such love and ador. not the same stupid, dumb accented voice he had fallen head over heels for. this voice was no longer soft and yellow, sweet and green, insidious and red. 

it was grey. a blank slate. plain. unloving. 

grey.

clouded brown eyes stared at his own chestnut pair with a sense of worry, moral worry, not loving worry. 

"i'm fine, wil."

he was not. 

he wanted to scream, scream at the top of his lungs, till his voice went still and his throat tasted blood. 

on impulse, he lashed at a vase, causing it to smash on the floor, half expecting a worried, lanky british asshole to come running in, shoving this husk of a man away, eyes laden with concern. but none came. 

he walked towards the window, ignoring the shards of china and glass stab the soles of his feet, returning his gaze to the moon. 

tears fell down his face as he spoke.

"it's not right." his voice wavered slightly, choking on his own tears. 

he glared up at the moon, with its eerie light painting his face and making his watering eyes glow.

"it's not- it's not _fucking fair._ "

he slowly stuck his head out the window, surveying the heavy traffic beneath him. it was a long drop.

_'i'm afraid there's no chance he'll get his memories back. the damage to his frontal lobe was barely fixable.'_

he shuddered as a harsh breeze whipped his face. he pulled the shutters open, making them wide enough for him to climb out of.

he heard a gasp from behind him.

"schlatt...?"

for the first time in a year, his voice felt genuine. but it wasn't enough.

"wilbur." schlatt croaked, tears pouring down his face like a faucet he couldn't quite turn off.

"schlatt... come off there, man," his voice was growing desperate.

"wilbur, wilbur, wil. i can't do this anymore."

he turned back, laughing in a pool of purest melancholy. the moon's light taunted him, chasing his thoughts round and round in his head.

"you see this moonlight, wil?"

he nodded hesitantly.

"so much happened under this _fucking_ moon, wilbur. so much. this one- this one bloody piece of rock. so much. so, so much. and you can't remember any of it. i can't live with that, wil."

he shook his head, tearlines etching their way into his skin, reddening it to a point of no return.

"i-i'm sorry, schlatt."

he walked over to him, almost attempting to pull him away; instead pressing a warm hand against schlatt's cold face.

"old wilbur's gone from me. i can't do anything about that. but- but if you do this, he'll be gone forever. no memories of him left."

schlatt whimpered slightly.

"am i being selfish, then?"

new wilbur paused, brows crossed. "no," he decided, "you aren't."

"i've got nothing to live for, wil. what the fuck am i meant to do?"

the tall brunette bit his lip, then acted so fast schlatt didn't even realise what had happened. he had pulled him off the ledge, and was now holding him in his arms, enveloping him in an embrace not unlike the ones schlatt had been so addicted to.

his face went red, whether it was from crying or embaressment, he couldn't tell. he hid it in new wilbur's chest.

"i know what we could do," the taller said softly.

schlatt looked up at him, noticing the moon reflecting in his eyes.

"we could try again."

the shorter man gave a sob, making new wilbur's face turn into one of worry again.

"wait, i'm sorry, darling, did i-"

schlatt cut him off by kissing him, desperate and short, full of adoration nonetheless.

"you called me darling again."

new wilbur's face flushed an opulent pink. "sorr- sorry, it just seemed right."

"wilbur." the man in questions' face glowed slightly. 

"yes?"

"i'd like to start again."

the moon he had loved under.

the moon he had lost under.

a moon which had given him a new start.

as he lay in bed that night, blinds closed, something warm curled beside him. not the same thing. but maybe something new. 

a new start.

schlatt was no longer moonsick.

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this pretty late lol 
> 
> ignore any stupid mistakes! 
> 
> \- cindy ❤


End file.
